


Stucky One-Shots

by TeacupUnicorn



Category: Marvel, Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Adorable Bucky Barnes, Adorable Steve Rogers, Angst, Angst and Humor, Angst with a Happy Ending, Artist Steve Rogers, Bucky Barnes & Steve Rogers Friendship, Bucky Barnes Feels, Bucky Barnes Has Nightmares, Bucky Barnes Has PTSD, Bucky Barnes Has Panic Attacks, Bucky Barnes Needs a Hug, Bucky Barnes Recovering, Bucky Barnes/Steve Rogers Feels, Bucky Ignores Steve, Depressed Steve Rogers, Emotional Bucky Barnes, Emotional Hurt, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Emotional Steve Rogers, Gay Bucky Barnes, Gay Steve Rogers, Hurt/Comfort, Jealous Bucky Barnes, Jealous Steve Rogers, M/M, Oblivious Bucky Barnes, Oblivious Steve Rogers, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Protective Bucky Barnes, Protective Steve Rogers, Steve Rogers Feels, Steve Rogers Needs a Hug, Steve Rogers has nightmares, Winter Soldier Bucky Barnes, steve comforts bucky, stucky angst, stucky feels
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-03-18
Updated: 2017-04-17
Packaged: 2018-10-07 07:31:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,412
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10355277
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TeacupUnicorn/pseuds/TeacupUnicorn
Summary: A collection of short stories featuring the cutest couple in the universe: Steve Rogers and Bucky Barnes.





	1. I Miss You

**Author's Note:**

> Hello, my wonderful readers! This is my first fanfiction that I've ever posted anywhere, so I hope you like it! Feel free to comment or leave kudos, or not comment and not leave kudos. Whatever you want. Also, this is un-beta-d, so if I have any grammatical mistakes, PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE tell me! Seriously. It's not nit picky or annoying.
> 
> Sadly, until summertime, I'll only be posting on weekends unless I get really lucky and don't have any homework (which is very unlikely).
> 
> But anyways, enjoy the first chapter!

Steve ran a hand through his perfect hair, his brow creased in worry.

He didn't know what was going on. Bucky, his best friend, the person who he had risked everything to save, was now giving him the cold shoulder. Every morning, Steve would wake up and be informed by FRIDAY that Bucky had eaten and left — or just left, no eating mentioned. He didn't really see much of him the rest of the day, but clung onto the moments that he did as though they were his lifeline. Then he would go to bed in his own room and worry about Bucky until he fell asleep or stared at the ceiling all night.

And as Steve looked around the lobby of the Avengers Tower, he tried to figure out what he was doing wrong, why Bucky wouldn't talk to him when everything had been going fine two weeks ago. The weird part was, he didn't know why it made him feel this way; this depressed, this worried. But the more he thought about it, the more he realized that he didn't want Bucky to ever stop talking to him, that he didn't want Bucky to ever leave him again; that he would be destroyed by the pain if he did.

And feeling like that meant only one thing: he was in love with his best friend.

Steve was, at first, very shocked to discover this; was he not, after all, straight? But the more he thought about it, the more he realized that he was most decidedly not straight (he'd never had a crush on anyone back in the 40's, he'd just gone out with girls because it was what you were supposed to do), and that he had been in love with Bucky for about thirteen years before his supposed death, and those feelings had never changed.

What a crazy world it was.

Steve collapsed on a couch, feeling overwhelmed by the sheer emotion that he had ignored for so long threatening to pour out of him.

Then the elevator door burst open and out walked a smirking Clint Barton, a Tony Stark who was in the middle of explaining something, a bored Natasha Romanov, an annoyed Wanda Maximoff, and a stoic Vision (who actually floated in). Steve sighed. This was the last thing he wanted; a conversation with his friends. He just wanted to be alone right now.

"— and it is not a reverse button, it's a counter-pole button! There's a difference!" argued Tony.

"It doesn't matter what you call it, Tin Man! It matters what it does!" snapped Wanda.

Tony opened his mouth to argue more, but then Natasha sighed and yelled out, "Will you please just shut up?" To which Tony and Wanda did. No one crossed Nat unless they had a death wish.

Tony crossed his arms and stared out a nearby window. "FRIDAY, give me a location on Barnes. He's been gone for a long time, and I want to make sure that he hasn't gotten himself killed or something."

"His name is Bucky," Steve said, looking up at his friend. Tony, being the annoying man he was, pointed to Steve and said, "Right! Bucky . . . Bucky, Bucky, Bucky. . . . Where did you even get that name from?"

"I don't know," replied Steve, staring at the floor with his hand on the side of his face. "I think from 'Buchanan', his middle name . . . he never liked 'James' much. Always said it was too formal . . . and Jamie just didn't suit him."

The more Steve spoke, the more he fell in love with Bucky. He loved these little things about him, that made him different from everyone else. He sighed, thinking.

"FRIDAY, you got me a location on 'Bucky' yet?" Tony asked the room at large.

"Right outside the building, sir," said FRIDAY's voice from seemingly nowhere.

All of a sudden, there was a swishing sound and the door to Avengers Tower opened, revealing none other than Bucky Barnes.

Steve stood up immediately. _Bucky_. Bucky, with his chin-length, ever so slightly wavy brown hair. Bucky, with his cerulean eyes that Steve could never say no to. Bucky, with his vibranium arm that he hated so much but Steve loved. His beautiful Bucky, here at last.

Bucky closed the door behind himself and quietly walked to the elevator, as though he didn't want to be noticed, his eyes wide, alert, and watching.

Steve rushed over to his friend. "Hey," he said, trying not to seem too excited. "How're you?" Bucky gave him a quick glance and stated, "Fine. You?"

"I'm . . . good," lied Steve. He wanted to tell his friend the truth, he really did, but he knew he wouldn't be able to face the inevitable rejection. He knew it was cowardly, but he couldn't ruin their relationship.

Bucky gave a small nod, and they talked a little bit in the elevator on the way up, but when they reached the top floor, Bucky said goodbye and headed into his room. Steve's heart sank, and he trudged into his room as well.

***

Five months later, and Steve had fallen into depression.

He missed Bucky so much that he had taken to simply sitting in his room for hours on end, staring at nothing.

He didn't really watch TV anymore or get the newspaper, so he had no way of knowing what was going on in the world outside the tower. He didn't really care. He didn't really care about anything anymore. The only thing he still liked to do was draw. It calmed him down, helped him forget his troubles for a while. But then they would come back and hit him in the face, full-force, and then he would fall into these depression fits where he felt so hopeless, lost, and confused that he just wanted to fall asleep and never wake up again.

He crawled into bed one night with his eyes wet. It was losing Bucky all over again, but worse, because he was right here, and yet he still couldn't reach him.

**1:52 AM**

A whimper. A cry out in the dark was what woke Steve Rogers up from his light sleep.

His blue eyes cracked open and he looked at the time. Nearly two, he thought. Then he heard it again. A small whine, a plea for help.

He bolted upright in bed, his heart pounding. The sound had come from Bucky's room.

Steve got up and quickly padded towards the door in his sleep shorts, pulling a t-shirt on over his head as he went. Jogging down the hallway, he paused at Bucky's door.

There. There it was again. That small sob in the dark. Steve's face contorted with pain as FRIDAY, being the observant program she was, unlocked Bucky's door for Steve with an audible "click".

"Thanks," he murmured, turning the knob and entering.

The first thing he saw was a messy floor. The second, Bucky in his bed, the blankets off, curled up in a ball and sobbing quietly.

Steve's heart twisted agonizingly to see the man he loved in so much obvious pain. He stepped closer to Bucky, taking tentative steps as though he expected Bucky to run off again.

As he got closer, he could see that Bucky was wearing nothing with sleep shorts and was still covered in sweat. He was shaking, trembling with silent cries, although occasionally, one would get free and a whimpering noise would escape the soldier, which was what had woken Steve up.

Was he allowed to do this?

The super solider reached the side of the bed and kneeled down next to his friend. He wasn't sure what to do, so he just started talking softly, his words gradually getting stronger.

"Hey, Buck. How're you doing? Well, obviously not the best right now, but you'll be okay. I know you will, because you always have been. You're the strongest person I know, Bucky." He continued to talk quiet words of comfort to his best friend, who slowly calmed down and relaxed, his face morphing into a peaceful expression.

Steve sighed with relief, reaching out slowly to put a hand on his friend's back soothingly.

He had no idea what he'd just saved him from.

***

The next morning, Bucky woke, shivering and still slightly sweaty, to see Steve asleep on the floor next to his bed. He immediately recoiled — why was Steve here? What was he doing? He tried to recall the events of last night. Taking forever to fall asleep, the horrible nightmare again, — he shuddered just thinking about it — and then — Steve. He had felt his friend there, heard his voice, felt his hand on his back as a reassuring presence that stayed there with him for . . . oh, gosh. Bucky gasped slightly. Had he really stayed the whole night?

Why would his friend sacrifice his sleep to stay at his side to comfort him? They were only friends, nothing more. No matter how many times Bucky wished that they were more, nothing changed. But Bucky blamed himself. He had lived with these feelings all his life, and he should know how to control them by now. Steve looked upon him as a friend only, right? Bucky didn't know anymore.

He put his head in his hands and looked down at Steve sleeping. His mouth was slightly open, and his face was squashed against the carpet, but Bucky had never seen anything more adorable in his life. He gave a small smile, his first one in weeks, and leaned back against the headboard to wait for Steve to wake up.

Five minutes later, Bucky got his wish. Steve stirred, taking a hand to his hair immediately. Bucky gave another smile in spite of himself. So that's how he gets it so perfect, he thought. He starts on it as soon as he wakes up.

Steve sat up, blinking, for a second, then saw Bucky, and immediately, a sheepish expression came over his face. He gave a nervous laugh and sat up. "Um . . . hi?"

Bucky gave a smile that barely held any warmth. "Why did you stay?" His voice was monotonous, like it was as the Winter Soldier, and Steve flinched.

"You had a nightmare," Steve said, hiding his hurt. "I didn't want to just leave you here."

"You mean you didn't want to risk that I might disrupt your sleep again," said Bucky harshly. He didn't know where this anger was coming from, nor did he think he could or would control it. "You felt that it was your duty, to your best friend —"

"Bucky, that's not true —"

"You don't care about me. You don't care about my sleep. You care about yourself!" The last word came out with a sound almost like a growl. Bucky felt furious. He had been wanting to say this for the longest time, because he loved Steve, and Steve didn't love him back, because Bucky was worthless, a tool for Hydra, unreliable and weak —

"Buck." Steve's voice sounded pained. "You're my best friend, I do care about you —"

"Then why are your other friends here?" Bucky demanded. Steve thought he could hear pain beneath all of Bucky's anger. "Natasha, Bruce, Tony — they've been with you for so much longer, helping you win wars, and defeat armies! What am I compared to them?!" He was yelling at Steve by the time he reached the end of his sentence. "How can you care about me compared to them?"

Now Steve was sure that he had heard misery behind his friend's voice, if the pained — but enraged — expression on his face was any giveaway. "Buck," Steve said, his voice nearly breaking, "you are my best friend, and —" He seemed to be struggling with something, then made up his mind. "and — I love you."

Bucky froze. After a moment, he said, "What . . .?" A nervous smile flickered across his face. "No, no, you can't love me. I'm — I'm a weapon. I'm —"

"Unlovable?" Steve guessed, smirking slightly. Bucky quieted. "Well — yeah," he muttered.

"Well, I'm going to tell you something, Bucky, and it is 100% true. I. Love. You." Steve got up and sat on the bed next to his friend, who looked shocked.

Bucky stared at Steve, his mouth hanging slightly open, his cerulean eyes wide with astonishment. Steve, for the first time, looked embarrassed. "I mean, I get if you don't like me back, I just — needed to tell you . . . it's been destroying me, these past few months." His voice was filled with pain that had been bottled up for far too long.

Bucky gave a sort of breathless laugh with no humor and buried his face in his hands. "You — really love me," he said, his voice slightly distorted.

"Yeah," Steve murmured, returning his gaze to the front. "I'm sorry."

Bucky removed his head from his palms, still looking dazed. "What?" He turned sideways and took Steve's hands in his own. "Oh, no, Stevie, no. . . ." His voice broke. And with that, he leaned forwards and pressed his lips against Steve's.

The captain will later say that he did _not_ look shocked when that happened; no, he simply leaned into the kiss without hesitation. And he _most certainly_ did not start crying with happiness, _no matter what Bucky said, Natasha and Tony_.

Later that day, however, they would both agree that they talked about everything that had happened, and they both said that they had loved each other for a long time, although Bucky discovered his feelings far earlier than Steve.

At 11:23 AM, they would walk out of Bucky's room with hands held and large smiles on their faces to tumultuous applause from their friends, who knew exactly what had been going on thanks to FRIDAY, who had been live-recording the whole thing from the first moment Bucky woke up.

They would request to Tony that they share a room, and Tony would smirk and say that he had already set up a room a month ago. Steve would laugh and Bucky would grin. Then they would proceed to their new room, which was like their last one, but bigger and with colors that they both liked on the walls, and, of course, a king-sized bed.

Years later, their teary-eyed friends would gather at their wedding, and their golden Labrador (named Tucker) would bark with joy as they kissed.

And Steve would never be depressed again.


	2. Happy Birthday, Steve!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bucky is extremely nervous about getting a birthday present for Steve, who is also his boyfriend, Tony helps out, and Wanda is awesome. You know, more than usual.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alright, so I promised you another one, and another one there is! (Sorry it took so long hehe.) 
> 
> DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT OWN MARVEL OR ANY OF ITS CHARACTERS, ONLY THESE PLOT IDEAS.
> 
> Enjoy!

Bucky was aghast. Steve's birthday was coming up in about a week, and _Bucky Barnes_ , his _boyfriend_ , didn't know what to get him. So he felt guilty. And nervous. And broke. Yep, he was broke. He had no money to get Steve anything, even if he _had_ thought up something to get him.

He sighed, turning his face towards the ground. He was in his room at Avengers Tower, having just eaten lunch, which is what put the thought in his mind that he should get Steve something. The Avengers had been talking about a surprise party, and then he had choked on his salad and hurriedly left before they could ask him what he was getting his boyfriend.

Now Bucky was sitting in his room, feeling rather sick, as though his greens hadn't gone down correctly. His heart was beating fast, and he couldn't think straight. Maybe they wouldn't blame him because he didn't have any money to buy it with in the first place? But then Steve would ask what Bucky had wanted to get him, and Bucky wouldn't have an answer. . . .

Taking a shuddering breath, he ran his hands over his face and tried to calm down. I'll think of something, I'll think of something. . . .

Bucky closed his eyes and concentrated as much as he could, thinking about what people usually got others when they were broke. Nothing came to him. He groaned in frustration. He couldn't think of a single thing, so he did the thing that most people at this point would do.

He took a nap.

Perhaps Bucky thought that maybe he would feel refreshed after the nap, with an idea in his head. In that case, he was severely mistaken. He woke up feeling more desolate and lost than ever.

The soldier curled up into a ball and lay there, thinking about anything, random things, hoping to trigger some memory, some thought that would give him the perfect idea.

He lay there all afternoon, brooding.

***

It came to him in a dream.

You see, Bucky sometimes had dreams that were memories of his past. Some were good times with Steve, but some were nightmares where he was back at a HYDRA base, and Pierce was saying, "Wipe him," and — Bucky shivered just thinking about it.

Most nights, he would go dream-free, but on those nights where he would remember something, it was a fifty-fifty chance that it would be good or bad.

Tonight was a good night.

It started off with him coming home to Steve after a date with some redhead, his left arm blissfully whole once more.

_He entered, put his bag down, and, humming to himself, grabbed an apple. Crunching it noisily, headed upstairs to see his best friend._

_Steve was sitting on a stool in front of a window, and he seemed to be writing something, glancing up at the window constantly. But as Bucky drew closer, he saw that Steve's movements were too fluid to be writing, too delicate._

_And, with a start, Bucky realized that Steve was drawing the scene outside the window. His mouth was slightly open in shock and still full of apple. He walked up behind his friend and saw a beautiful masterpiece of New York drawn on the paper._

_It was carefully sketched, all the details there, and it looked amazing. Bucky could tell that it wasn't finished, though, because Steve was in the process of drawing windows on one of the buildings._

_Steve jumped and turned around, having just noticed Bucky, and said nervously, "Hey, Buck! How was your date?" He quickly hid the sketchbook behind his back. But Bucky, who still had a look of awe on his face, moved to see it, but Steve moved to Bucky couldn't see it, a look of alertness and fear on his face._

_"Hi, Steve!" Bucky said, smiling. He sat down on a stool across from his friend and pointed to the hidden sketchbook behind his friend's back with the hand that wasn't holding the apple. "Nice drawing you got there."_

_Steve looked like a deer caught in headlights, but pulled out the sketchbook anyway. "It's okay," he said nervously. "I guess. . . ."_

_Bucky carefully took the sketchbook and looked at the drawing his best friend had done. It was intricate, gently sketched, but Bucky could tell that Steve wasn't done._

_His mouth was hanging slightly open in shock. "Wow, Steve, this is amazing . . ." His friend looked like he didn't quite believe Bucky, and Bucky scooted over next to him. "Look at this detail!" he pointed out, tracing some carefully drawn lines that indicated shading. "It's amazing . . ."_

_Steve looked over and gave him a small smile._

Bucky woke up, the same smile Steve had in the dream on his face. He sat up, stretching and running a though his hair. The smile vanished as soon as it appeared, however, for Bucky soon remembered that he had nothing to get Steve for his birthday. He sighed, a forlorn expression sliding into his face.

As he got up to go out the door, he saw an envelope on the ground that said "Read this or else" on the outside in messy handwriting. He opened it. There was a large wad of cash inside, and a short note.

_Buckaroo,_

_This is for you to buy Steve a birthday present. I know you're broke. Don't even bother arguing, I'm a billionaire._

_– Tony_

Bucky sighed. "Alright, then, well, there's that problem solved." He put the note on an almost empty table near the door.

Then his dream came to rest in the front of his mind again, and he suddenly thought of something. He could get Steve a sketchbook.

Wait . . . but what if Steve already had one? What if Bucky got him one and Steve didn't need it at all, and he gave a fake smile, and Bucky felt embarrassed? Because Bucky would feel embarrassed. Very embarrassed, if he couldn't get his best friend and boyfriend something, if he was so stupid as to not know what to get his Stevie.

Bucky sighed, sat down, and ran his metal hand through his hair. Should he just ask Steve? But then he would know . . . ugh, he didn't know what to do.

He was still sitting there, trying to decide how he should ask Steve if he had a sketchbook, when there was a knock on the door.

Bucky looked up from the floor and walked over to get it. Opening it, he saw that it was Wanda. He blinked. "Hi," he said.

"Hello," Wanda said in her thick accent, smiling. "Can I — come in?" she asked, gesturing to the door. Bucky paused, considering this.

After a moment of hesitation, he said, "Yeah," and opened the door to let Wanda in. She walked past him and sat in a chair. "Why haven't you come out of your room all day?" she asked him worriedly as he closed the door, staring at Bucky with her eyes wide. "Steve's getting worried, and by extension, he's worrying everyone else."

Bucky frowned, then looked at the clock hanging on the wall. And nearly choked.

"It — it's _2:30_?" he asked, incredulous. "I thought it was 9:00 in the morning or something." He sat down and ran a hand through his chin-length hair again.

Wanda looked at him curiously. "Something's bothering you," she said. "Anyone can see that."

Bucky looked up. "I don't know what to get Steve for his birthday," he blurted desperately. Maybe he should've held back, waited to see if he could trust Wanda, but he didn't care. He had to know, and soon.

Wanda didn't laugh, didn't say, "But you're his boyfriend!", didn't even blink, just looked thoughtful, and, after a pause, said, "Do you have any ideas? Any at all?"

Bucky sighed. "I thought about getting him a sketchbook, because I remember that he used to love drawing back in the day. But I don't know if he already has one, or if he even likes to draw anymore."

Wanda again paused, then said slowly, her eyes flashing a bit of red, "He has one sketchbook, but it's almost full, and he does still love to draw. But I would recommend getting some artist's pencils as well." Then she smiled. "He'll love it."

Bucky gave a tentative grin in return. "You looked into his mind?"

"Only since it benefits a friend," she said. "I don't do it often."

They said goodbyes and Wanda left. Bucky felt happier than he had in a while, and his mood was lightened even more when he realized that Wanda had called him a "friend".

***

Bucky drove back from _Michael's_ with a bag that contained two black sketchbooks — one large, one small — and a case of artist's pencils.

He entered the tower, laid the remaining money from Tony that he hadn't used on the counter with a note, and headed to the room that the Avengers had dictated was the "Wrap Presents For Steve's [or whoever's birthday it was] Birthday Room (Steve is Not Allowed In Here)". And sure enough, there was the sign on the door, in big purple letters against a crisp white background.

Bucky took a deep breath and stepped into the room.

It was a square 15'x15' room, with light gray walls and a large table in the middle. There were two large trash cans in the room for wrapping paper, and, speaking of the brightly colored stuff, there was tons of it around, along with bags and tissue paper.

Bucky decided he would use a bag. He picked out a dark blue one with silver stars and red swirls decorating the outside, and chose golden paper.

He really hoped this worked.

***

At the party, Bucky couldn't enjoy himself. Every time he tried to forget his worries, he would remember them again soon and get a painful lurch in his stomach that made him want to throw up. So he kept thinking about them, standing off to the side, clutching a drink he didn't know the name of in his hand tightly. Steve came over to check on him, of course, several times, to see if he was okay, and Bucky would just say, "Yeah, bud. I'm fine. Just not as social as you."

When gift-opening time came, Bucky felt as though he would actually puke. He sat in a circle with everyone there, Wanda on his left, Steve on his right. The big blonde dork had a huge smile on his face as he opened his presents (clothes, books, hilarious and weird Captain America merchandise), but when it came time for him to open Bucky's present (of course it was last, because Steve was that kind of sentimental person), he looked at it with something in his blue eyes for a few seconds, then tore the paper away and pulled out his gifts.

Bucky's fists were clenched tightly, and his teeth were grinding against each other. Steve just stared at the sketchbooks and pencils for a second, then his expression melted into a huge grin, the happiest and cutest one a very nervous Bucky had seen on him in a long time. Steve reached over to hug his boyfriend, who was looking thoroughly shocked by everything, but returned the embrace all the same.

"Thank you," Steve whispered in Bucky's ear. "Thank you so much." And then Bucky's expression changed completely and he broke the hug to grin at his Steve and say, "I take it this was a good idea?"

Steve smiled that adorable smile again, nodded earnestly, and returned, "I hardly ever draw anymore, but I'd been wanting to, and then I had like two pages left in my sketchbook so I couldn't, and _thank you_ , Bucky."

"You're welcome, punk," he replied. Steve grinned, "Jerk."

But as he leaned in for a kiss, he whispered, "Love of my life," and Bucky thought that right there, kissing Steve, having Tony imitate barfing at the two "lovesick lovebirds", everyone else smiling or cheering, Wanda smirking, right here, with his friends, with Steve, he couldn't be happier.

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you liked it! More are coming soon! :)


End file.
